12 Days of Christmas
by i.heart.play-doh
Summary: The not-so-simple nursery rhyme helps Ryan make his present to Calleigh extra special this year. CaRWash. :D
1. Chapter 1

**heyheyhey! :] it's TWO days till Christmas! hooray!**

**haha i love winter break. okay. so here's a (hopefully) nice Christmas story. all CaRWash; i hope you guys aren't too bored with all my stories being shippie. i wouldn't write so many Calleigh/Ryan stories if the actual show had some Calleigh/Ryan action! this is basically a nice little fantasy i'd like to share. :]**

**so if you're not too busy Christmas shopping or decorating the house or partying all night long, take a gander. enjoy!**

**oops. almost forgot. i DISCLAIM that i don't own anything. not even the song.  
**

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_December 12__th_

Ryan Wolfe had a problem. A predicament, a dilemma, a conundrum. Call it anything but good.

On top of that, he had a problem with problems. So now he had two things to worry about. Wow. December was not off to a good start this year.

The good news was, once he solved his problem, the other one would magically disappear with the first, and he'd be home free. The bad news? He has yet to solve the problem. Everything's sounding just a touch ironic, isn't it?

This must be what mid-life crises felt like. Wait. Did that mean he's going to die when he's in his forties? Oh no. Now he's got another problem to deal with.

Here's the thing. Christmas is around the corner. And Ryan was a good present-getter; his keen observation skills and anal attention to detail help him with the shopping each year. The situation wasn't about money either; he had plenty of that.

See, every year Ryan kept a journal. At the top of every page he'd write – in neat, big capital letters – someone's name, and he'd make a list of potential items to buy for them throughout the year (they depended on what they told him, what he heard about them, what he saw them do, that kind of stuff)… All right, so it sounded a bit like he was some shady stalker freak; that was why the journal was strictly top-secret and confidential.

The first page in his notebook had been blank the whole year. Just a completely white page that stared blankly right back at him every time he opened the book. Well, not _completely_ white; there was a name at the top, but that was it.

_CALLEIGH_

Okay, so the page wasn't _blank_ blank. It had useless things on it, things he was never going to buy for her, so didn't that count as nothing?

On any other year he would have taken a good long look at the list and bought every single thing on it, but this year he was going to make it different. He decided to tell Calleigh how much he liked her, and his cheesy side thought of the idea of expressing it through his Christmas present. Because as much as he enjoys the flirting relationship they shared, it never went past the point of witty sexual remarks and flirtatious banter.

And recently he realized he wanted more than that. He was fairly certain she felt the same way, but even if she didn't, he'd make sure his present would change her mind.

He liked her, he really did, he just wasn't all enthusiastic about going to Victoria's Secret and asking an employee where he could find a bra for Calleigh. Not that he knew her breast size, but even if he did, he still wouldn't have gone.

Or going to Sephora and bathing himself in women's perfume, trying to find 'a cute-smelling one' (Calleigh's words exactly). What defined a cute-smelling scent, anyway?

So there he was, giftless, with only 12 days of Christmas left.

Hey! That's a song!

Ryan stood in the Crime Lab's elevator holding a small box of evidence to bring to his Trace Lab. He made his own elevator music, humming _12 Days of Christmas_ while tapping his foot to the beat and bopping his head in time.

The elevator made a pit stop on its way to Ryan's floor, its doors opening to the woman with the 'blank' list on a supposedly nonexistent journal. She smiled brightly at Ryan, who stopped humming to return the smile with one showing his straight white teeth. After having already exchanged pleasantries while processing the scene earlier that day, and because the evidence was still unprocessed, they didn't have much to talk about. So Ryan returned to his humming and tapping and bopping.

"I can never memorize that song."

"... I'm sorry, what?" he didn't expect the outburst from Calleigh.

"The whole song? I can never remember all the gifts."

Ryan chuckled. "You can remember all the guns in the world, and then some, yet you can't remember 12 gifts?"

Calleigh made eye contact with him. Her eyes were sparkling. "That's different. I like guns."

"Does that mean you don't like the song?" he raised his eyebrow and leaned his head to the side.

"No, no. I like the song," she debated.

"So what makes it different, then?" Ryan asked her with a straight face.

Seconds after his lips curled into a smile. She'd been caught in her own excuse.

Taking it gracefully, she smiled and said, "Shut up. It's not my fault I have trouble reciting all the presents the true love gave."

The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged. "Oh. This is my floor," Calleigh claimed.

A brilliant idea made its way to Ryan's brain just before the metal doors closed between them.

"Don't worry, Cal," he started, "I'll help you remember them."

The doors closed on a puzzled Calleigh.

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**dun dun dun... ;P**  
**i think you know what i'm thinking right now. review, please. i'ma try & get the whole story done, at the very latest, on boxing day.**

**reviews would be the greatest online present ever!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**eep! it's Christmas eve & i've only got the 2nd chapter done! anyways, without further ado, here it is. :D**

**oh. btw. i just found out that CaRWash meant Calleigh and Ryan Wolfe addicted shippers... i just thought they took the initials & made a word that had all the letters in it. genius work for whoever thought of that. :D  
**

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_December 13__th_

Calleigh fought off a yawn; a yawn meant tears and tears were not good. She wanted so badly to rub her eyes and force them awake but that would smudge her eye makeup. She had no intention of admitting to anyone that she had lost precious hours of sleep over Ryan.

Or rather, over what Ryan _told_ her. She thought of him too, but it wasn't like it was anything new. Neither of them was completely aware that thinking of him was what made her sleep so soundly each night.

And so her deprivation of sleep gave her unattractive eye bags – with which she slathered concealer on – and got her jacked up on coffee. The Sandman, when ignored for a night, was clearly not a good Santa Claus replacement.

She was so confused. What did he mean by _'I'll help you remember them'_? She stopped in front of the Crime Lab's glass doors, suddenly afraid. Was Ryan going to play the song over and over again over the intercom until it drilled a hole into her brain? Calleigh narrowed her eyes and peeked inside. Nobody seemed to be covering their ears so it must not be his plan.

Then again, they could have all just stolen some earplugs from her Ballistics Lab.

But since she still had to work, Calleigh took a deep breath and anticipated the holiday song to go through one ear and out the other as she stepped into the foyer.

…

Nothing. Well, nothing but the soft shuffle of feet and the occasional keyboard tapping from the receptionist.

Great. Now she could work in peace. But first, a trip to the break room for another cup of java wouldn't hurt.

--

Mm. There's nothing like a nice cup of office sludge to wake someone up. Calleigh always wondered how that black lumpy…thing could be called coffee. But it was free and she needed to have open eyes if she didn't want to shoot at herself while processing guns all day.

She took a sip, immediately regretting pulling an all-nighter. Her face scrunched up in disgust and she wanted to spit the half-liquid, half-unknown substance into the sink. Instead she swallowed everything; it may have tasted horrible, but it has caffeine.

Before leaving, a white envelope caught her eye. Turning her head to bring it into focus, she saw that it was addressed to her.

She set down her mug and walked towards the Christmas tree the team had put up the other day (it was yet to be decorated, but at least they had half the job done). Squatting down, she picked up the envelope, which was attached to a perfectly wrapped box.

There was something odd about the way her name was written on the white paper, like someone was trying hard to disguise their writing. Calleigh briefly wondered whether there was a Secret Santa game they had organized that she forgot about… Nope, no game.

Her present was the only one under the tree. Yes, she believed in 'don't open your gifts until Christmas morning', but she could hardly contain her excitement as she sat on the sofa to make herself more comfortable.

Besides, it was a box. She could probably just rewrap it and pretend she never opened the thing.

The card cover was a snowman and a winter mountain backdrop. She paid little attention to the cover and went straight into the message inside.

_Calleigh,_

_If I know you as well as I know peanut butter from jelly, then you opened this card way before Christmas morning. And I think I know which one's the peanut butter and which is the jelly in my sandwiches pretty well. _

She smiled. Immediately after reading the first few lines she knew who had written her the card. Though they gave up trying to hide their writing, she still would have figured it out, considering that the humor of the first sentence could only belong to one genius brain.

Ryan Wolfe.

Calleigh continued reading.

_So don't put this away just yet. It's a good thing curiosity overpowered tradition, because we'll be throwing out old-fashioned habits this year. _

_Today marks the first day of my teachings. The student becomes the master here. Let's start simple. _

_Open the gift before you keep reading. _

The delicately wrapped gift looked so adorable that she almost couldn't bear tearing the wrapper. Almost. Unraveling the tape slowly to salvage as much as possible, it was a while until the bare box was in her hands.

How did that song go again? A partridge. Yeah, that was the first thing the song said. She opened the box.

What the hell? Inside the box was a bird. A _stuffed_ bird. Its head was tiny compared to the massive body. Gray feathers blended expertly with the white, black, and brown feathers across its neck, wings, and tail. The beak was a bright red. Beady eyes stared at Calleigh. She titled her head quizzically.

She had expected some sort of fragile ornament, not a bird. Who was the mastermind that thought of hanging an animal on a tree? This true love wasn't very smart. Calleigh referred back to the letter in hopes that it would clear some stuff up.

_**On the first day of Christmas **_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**A partridge in a pear tree**_

_Who knew a partridge was a bird? I certainly didn't; I had to Google it to make sure. Hang it up on the tree if you'd like. You can be the first to put a decoration on it. _

_- Ryan_

_PS. I certainly hope I didn't keep you awake with my somewhat vague answer yesterday at the elevator. In any case, open the microwave for a nice surprise._

_PPS. I promise it's not another stuffed bird. _

_PPPS. You don't need to cover the eye bags, or drink the crap they call coffee. You'll still look just as lovely. You just won't be as _lively. _Haha get it?_

Calleigh felt a warm tickle run across her veins. He was so incredibly sweet. She took the partridge and placed it right on top of the tree. She had a feeling those beady eyes would never let her forget what the first verse of the song was. Then she made her way to the microwave to be (hopefully) pleasantly surprised.

The appliance bounced open to reveal a steaming mug of proper coffee. The wonderful smell of the brewed coffee beans filled the room instantly. Her smile grew wider as she took the mug out of the microwave and poured the other down the sink.

Calleigh thought of something that made her day: he really did know her.

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**reviews, please! & thanks for the ones who put my story on alert; review me too, guys! :P **


	3. Chapter 3

**so i've been working intensely from the 24th up till today & i'm happy to say that i've got two more chapters done after this, making me almost halfway done. i might extend the boxing day deadline to a couple days later, if i want to not be in front of my laptop for whole of the next few days.**

**i know, i know. i should started it actually on the 12th & just updated once a day, but school was a tard so i couldn't. but, better late than never, right? **

**Merry Christmas, guys! & to those that don't celebrate it, Happy Holidays! but still read my story, please. ;P**

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_December 14__th_

Eric Delko could not believe his eyes. He had taken a short break from waiting for the DNA results and so had headed to the break room. The first thing he saw – even before he stepped in the room – was the bird.

It stood there, on the tree, minding its own business. At first he didn't mind it too much. As long as it didn't bother him, he wouldn't bother it. But while he had his back turned on the bird he heard a chirp.

Whipping around, he saw that the bird was in its usual stance, unmoving and perfectly still. Eric shook it off; probably nothing.

He began to ignore it, but soon he noticed that the bird would only make a noise whenever he wasn't looking. So he walked up to the tree, a Coke in his hand.

Eric peered at it, leaning closer and closer to the bird. It stared right back at him with the same beady eyes that Calleigh swore she would never forget.

Slowly he lifted an arm, and with his index finger gently poked at the bird.

The bird made its way through the plastic branches and made a _clunk!_ once it reached the ground. Eric stepped back, eyes wide and unconvinced.

He rubbed his eyes again and again, but the bird was still on the floor, lopsided and looking dead.

Eric Delko had just killed something. In a Crime Lab, no less. Oh, the irony. He hated it.

He left the break room, in search of someone to help him cover up the scene. Or maybe he should just put the bird back up and let Wolfe be the one to 'kill' it.

--

"Calleigh?"

"In here, Eric!"

Eric stalked inside Calleigh's lab, suspicious of everything. He looked over his shoulder a dozen times, maybe, before he actually got to the table where Calleigh was working.

"I… uh… have a question."

Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. When was the last time Eric looked so pale?

"You look like you've seen a ghost. Oh! Was it the ghost of Christmas past? Oh, no wait! The future!! What'd you see?" Calleigh leaned her elbows on the table and looked eagerly at the Cuban.

"Yeah… you're full of caffeine right now, aren't you?" he smirked.

"Got almost no sleep. Don't ask."

"Okay. I won't. Instead, did you know it's company policy not to allow birds in the lab? Well, pets in general."

"The caffeine comment, Eric? Takes one to know one. What are you talking about?"

Delko fidgeted with his fingers. "See, I may have seen a bird in the break room."

Calleigh doubled up in laughter. "The bird? On the tree? That's my bird. And you don't have to worry about company policy. It's stuffed. It's not gonna be bothering anyone."

"It's…stuffed?" But he swore he could hear chirping. He feigned a laugh. "Right, right. Who would give you a stupid bird anyway? Unless you bought it yourself, then it wouldn't be stupid…"

"Ryan. And it's not stupid. He's teaching me something."

A snort escaped Eric's nostrils. "What? He's giving you lessons on things _not_ to buy for Christmas?"

He received a glare from the blonde. "Shut up, Eric. I like birds. And I like stuffed things. So it makes perfect sense that he'd get me a stuffed bird."

"Yeah. Sure, Cal. I'll see you later." Eric waved and walked out, leaving Calleigh alone.

--

The computer screen had a post-it that she didn't remember putting up. For one thing, it was bright pink, and the lab's post-its were the standard issue yellow. For another, it didn't have her girlish scrawl on it.

_C, Meet me at the roof. –R_

Calleigh quickly inputted the information into her computer, and as it searched for possible gun owners she practically ran to the elevator. She punched ROOF more than a dozen times before the doors even closed.

She didn't expect the cool breeze once the elevator reached the highest level of the lab. But it felt nice.

There he was, leaning against the ledge casually. His hands were in his pockets, and his legs were crossed. She wished she brought a camera; he hadn't noticed her yet so he looked so cute in his thinking stance.

Beside him, she observed, was a bird cage. Inside were two birds. Only this time, these ones were alive.

"You know, Ryan. I heard that it was company policy not to have pets in the lab."

He looked up at the Southern voice and smiled. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm an expert at rule bending, Cal. See, these aren't my pets. And we're not _in_ the lab, we're _on top_ of it."

She matched his smile. "Well aren't you mischievous."

He shrugged, replying, "Gotta take risks once in a while."

Calleigh picked up the cage. "So what's this for?"

"For you, silly." Ryan took a package of birdseeds out of his pocket and fed the two birds. "Today's the second day."

He cleared his throat and began to sing.

_**On the second day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Two turtledoves**_

She'd never heard him sing. It was wonderful. So wonderful that she asked him to sing it again, making the excuse that 'I can't remember unless you sing it more than once.' And again. And again. And again.

After the sixth time, he figured out her plan and stopped singing altogether.

"If you want me to sing, Cal, all you have to do is ask. I'm pretty sure you remembered it after I sang it once."

Calleigh blushed. "Will you sing it again?" And because she asked him this time, he did.

After she was fairly certain she got his voice etched in her brain (for future reference), she asked, "So what now?"

"Now you make a wish and set them free. Partly because I can't bring it downstairs or it'd be a violation, and partly because I'm running out of birdseed to feed them."

She nodded, holding the cage in front of her to look at the turtledoves closely.

Before making a wish, she queried, "Can't I keep one?"

"No, the guy at the pet store said something about how turtledoves form strong bonds with each other. 'They're emblems of love', I think was what he said. So I'm guessing if you want one you're gonna have to keep the other."

"Oh." Calleigh couldn't get what Ryan had reiterated to her (from the pet store guy) out of her head. She figured a wish about love would be fit.

Then she opened the cage door and let the couple out. Both she and Ryan watched as they flew together in circles. They looked so happy together, Ryan couldn't help but hope she wished for something like that for them.

A _splat!_ broke his thoughts. The foul smell of excrement arose from out of nowhere. He looked at Calleigh, whose face contorted as she slowly backed away from him.

Ryan closed his eyes. He figured out what had just happened.

"Damn. I knew I shouldn't have fed them so much food."

Calleigh chuckled, taking a napkin from her pant pocket and offering it to Ryan. He refused.

"Thanks, anyway, Cal. But it's okay. Delko wanted this jacket, and at first I wouldn't let him have it. But a sudden message from above told me he was meant to own this."

He shrugged off the jacket, leaving him wearing a long-sleeved button-down shirt, and draped it over one arm, careful not to touch the contaminated area. He held the empty cage in the other hand.

Ryan turned to Calleigh, who was still a couple feet away. "I think you should take the elevator down first. Unless you want to smell like bird poop."

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**never too late to give me a nice online review present! **


	4. Chapter 4

**hey! this is a short one, i apologize. but the last chapter was three hundred more words than my usual 1000-ish word count, so if you add 300 to this 800-word chapter then it evens out. hehe**

**i promise the next chapter is longer.  
**

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_December 15__th_

Ryan Wolfe would not answer his cell phone. It was kind of odd, because he never left without it; nobody in the team did.

So Natalia Boa Vista decided to give the man a visit, along with a scolding. She'd been trying to call for at least 15 minutes to ask for trace results on the fibers she'd found at her scene. Her first scene working solo. It felt good being trusted by Horatio. But damn, was there a lot of stuff to process.

Glass doors allowed Natalia to look for Ryan without entering the Trace lab. She saw his cell phone on the table, gloves in the trash, and lab coat hung on the coat hanger. But he was nowhere to be found.

Natalia began to get a little worried. She reassured herself that he was probably taking a leak. Yeah, that made sense. A bit relieved, she proceeded to the door, clutching the metal handle.

She didn't even get to push the glass door as she was yanked to the side. Her mouth was covered with a gloved hand.

"Don't scream. I'll take my hand out, but if you scream, you're gonna get it."

Her eyes fixed into an 'oh my god I can't believe you just did that' stare. She bit into the hand.

"Ow!" He took his hand away, shaking it in hopes of relieving the pain.

"Ryan!"

"What'd you do that for?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because your hand was on my mouth! I don't know where that hand has been!"

"I put gloves on!"

"Yeah. Gloves that probably touched some disgusting unclean piece of evidence."

"I swear they're new." She looked unconvinced. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I would have done the same thing anybody else. You just had the unfortunate luck of coming to my lab at the moment."

"It doesn't. And you would have done that to Horatio? Really?" She stuck a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, no. But he doesn't count."

Natalia shook her head and gave up on the subject. "All right. Let's drop it. What are you doing out here? I've been trying to call you!"

"Sorry. But I need to stay out here. At least until the coast is clear."

"Coast? What coast?"

"That one." Ryan pushed both of them gently to the side, behind the pillar, and then pointed.

Natalia followed his finger and looked.

Calleigh was standing where Natalia was just moments before.

"Calleigh? We're hiding because of her?" She chuckled softly. "I thought we were standing here looking like idiots because of IAB."

"Shh. She's about to see my present."

Natalia quieted and watched with Ryan as Calleigh took one of the books that were posed standing in her hands. Two other replicas of the same book were displayed on the table.

The brunette stood dumbfounded. "Wait. You gave Calleigh three books, three of the _same_ books, 10 days before Christmas?"

Ryan waited until Calleigh returned to reading the card before answering. "It's…Today's the third day."

"The what?"

"See, I wrote her a letter…"

_Dear Calleigh, _

_Good morning, sunshine! Come by Trace, pretty please. Today's the third day. Let's start off happy, shall we?_

_**On the third day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Three French hens**_

_In your hands should be three copies of Culinaria France. It's a recipe book, since I know how much you love cooking and how much your food tastes… delish! But I figured you were up for trying new things, you know, branching out from those Southern-style home cooked meals into something exotic. _

_So we've got three duplicates. Of a French recipe book. With a chicken on the cover. Three French hens. This is my creative juices flowing smoothly and then running into a brick dam. _

_Feel free to give the other two to someone else. Or you could just keep them as backups in case the pages get burned, or soaked, or seasoned. _

_Yours truly,_

_Ryan_

_PS. What's cookin' good-lookin'?_

"…and since I couldn't get my hands on real French hens, I gave her those instead."

Calleigh had taken the books and walked out of the lab with a huge smile on her face. Natalia could tell she loved the presents.

There were a lot of questions she wanted to ask him, but she felt that this was one of those 'it's better for me if I don't know' times, so she kept them to herself.

Turning to Ryan, she said, "I've got to admit. Even though my day started out pretty crappy – no thanks to you and your probably filth-ridden gloved hand –, I'm glad hers isn't. Good job, Mr. Wolfe. I'm impressed. Now, my results?"

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**so, was it a good 800-word chapter? leave a comment, por favor! or s'il vous plait, depending on the second language of your country. =P **


	5. Chapter 5

**if you've stuck with me from the beginning & you're still here, great! here's the next chapter.**

**thanks a bunch, btw, for the people who leave comments! & also to those who visit, maybe read a bit. & of course, to the ones who put me on their story alert or their favorite story/author list. *hinthint***

**anyways, here's the promised long chapter.  
**

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_December 16__th_

She tapped her delicate nail-polished fingernails in a nameless rhythm on the table. Waiting for results was like watching a glacier move; they both take a hell of a long time for progress to be visible.

Her day started out ordinary. She came to work, visited the scene of a gunfight, came back to the lab, and worked. It was mid-afternoon and she hasn't seen anyone for a couple hours.

Calleigh wondered what Ryan would do today. She felt so special being the center of his attention (not that she never wasn't, she was just never aware).

Her cell phone resonated through her thoughts.

"Duquesne."

"Calleigh, it's Horatio." The sound of her boss' voice was refreshing, after being in solitude for so long.

"Yes, Horatio. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like for you to revisit the scene, please. I seem to have misplaced my sunglasses."

The blonde grew slightly irritated, but as politely as she could (this was her boss she was talking to), she asked him, "And I'm going to possibly retrieve them instead of you because…?"

"… Because I'm taking my lunch break. And I'm lieutenant, so what I say goes. Chop-chop, Miss Duquesne. We wouldn't want some patrol officer using the finders-keepers rule, now would we? Or worse, having my silhouettes be compensated through your check. Well, worse for you, at least."

And with that he hung up. Calleigh was a bit astonished at the odd behavior her boss showed during their phone conversation.

Still, he was the boss, so she had no choice but to return to the scene and search for Horatio's favorite accessory. It'd be good to get fresh air, anyways.

Calleigh took her set of keys and made her way to the front parking lot. Her Hummer sat tall and shiny in her designated parking spot.

The large vehicle's doors unlocked as Calleigh pressed the button. She stepped on the ledge and noticed a white envelope stuck to her steering wheel. Sitting in the driver's seat, she pulled the door closed before taking the letter out.

_Dearest Calleigh, _

_Don't start the engine. The sunglasses were never lost; it was all a lure. I thought this was better than the simple 'Go check your Hummer'. _

_I hope you don't mind that I accidentally scratched your paint job when I was jimmying the lock. _

Calleigh, in all her frustration, didn't even notice. She unrolled the window and stuck her head out to see the damage but she didn't have a good view. She promised herself to check it out after she finished reading the letter and finding the present.

_Made you look, didn't I? _

Damn! She never realized how predictable she was. Or was it just Ryan who was so observant? She picked the latter, and smiled because of how well he knew her.

_Anyways. Today's day number four. Open up the glove compartment. _

She reached over and obeyed Ryan, and found three purple flip phones. The lively picture of Tweety bird was decorated on the covers. She hoped this wasn't another of his 'creative juices flowing into a dam' moment.

_**On the fourth day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Four calling birds**_

_So this is the part where you ask yourself, 'if the next verse says four, how come I've only got three?' Well…_

At that moment one of the flip phones crackled. Calleigh jumped at the sound; how strange that it would make a noise right when she found them.

"Calleigh? Calleigh? This is your Hummer, right? Over."

She found the phone transmitting the voice and flipped it open. To her surprise it wasn't a cell, rather, a walkie-talkie.

"If you're not Calleigh, either you've got the wrong car, or I do. It's probably you who's wrong; I lied down flat on the dirty pavement checking that the spot said C. Duquesne. Over."

"Relax, Wolfe. It's me. And you don't need to say 'over' all the time."

"You're right, Duquesne, I don't have to. But if I don't it's just like we're talking on the phone, and where's the fun in conversing like that on walkie-talkies? Over."

"Well…" Calleigh searched for a reasonable argument. "Wow. You're right."

… She figured maybe the connection was lost until she realized she forgot to say something.

"Over."

"Haha, there we go. See? Isn't this more fun? Over."

"Oh, tons more fun. Tell me something. How exactly did you get Horatio to play along? Over."

"My conversation with H went a little something like this:…

'_Hey, H, I've got a question.' _

'_What do you need, Mr. Wolfe?' _

'_I need to get Calleigh in her Hummer.'_

'_What's wrong? What happened to her?'_

'_Oh, no, nothing. She's fine. I just… I'm trying to teach her something and… I just need her to go inside her Hummer.' _

'_Why don't you just tell her?'_

'_It's…it's not as fun if I do that.'_

'_All right, well, Christmas is coming, and I wouldn't have the Christmas spirit if I didn't offer you my services, so yes. I'll get her inside.'_

'_Thanks, H.' _

'_Wait. Just one more question…what should I tell her?'_

'…_Uh…I don't know. Tell her you lost your sunglasses at the scene or something. I'm giving you the space to think up something practical.' _

…and I left before he said anything more. And so I was never actually there for your encounter. What did he say? Over."

"The exact same thing you suggested. Kudos to your Horatio impersonation, by the way. Over."

"Oh, well, thank you. I can say that I didn't practice, but then I'd be lying. Over."

They shared a laugh, though on the speakers it sounded like they were both having coughing fits.

"Okay, so four calling birds. Three with you, one with me; four – check. They're walkie-talkies; calling – check. Tweety bird's on each one; birds – check. Over."

"Dare I say it, Ryan, you're getting super creative here. Over."

"I tried not to get you a bunch of birds, since a) they're expensive as hell, and b) how boring would that be? Over."

Calleigh laughed (he thought her laugh still sounded lovely over the static). "Well, I think I'm remembering the lines, so they're doing their jobs, regardless of whether they're live birds or stuffed birds or not even birds. Over."

"That's great! There's more days left, so leave some space in that large brain of yours. Oh, I gotta go. Delko's looking at me funny. He probably thinks I'm talking into a fake flip phone. Over."

"Don't worry about Eric. He's just jealous he doesn't have one. Over"

"Actually… Never mind. Just keep reading the letter, okay? Over."

"How did you know –"

"Wolfe, out! Over."

Calleigh made a mental note to ask him – in person and in a corner, so he wouldn't find some way to escape – how he knew all these things about her. And how his timing just seemed so impeccable each day.

But first, the letter.

_Since there's four walkie-talkies, and four of us on the team – minus Horatio (I don't think he'd really like being seen with a purple Tweety bird thing clipped to his superhero utility belt) – maybe you could find it in that big, sweet, generous heart of yours to share them with Delko, Natalia, and I. _

_Besides, we both know how that shade of purple brings out the color in my eyes beautifully. And it'd be pretty hilarious seeing Macho Delko holding it. We could even use them in our next expedition to the 'Glades; I bet the connection is way better than the so-called 'top-notch' radios the lab's got. _

_Have a great day experimenting with the electronic calling birds, Calleigh._

_Hopefully Yours,_

_Ryan_

Hopefully yours? She wondered what that implied. She hoped it was what she thought it meant. She'd ask him that too later.

Calleigh stepped out and covered the Miami sunshine with her eyes to keep her from getting blinded. She looked for the supposed scratches Ryan had made. There weren't any. So she read over the card to make sure she had read it properly.

In smaller font – she must have covered it with her hands while she was reading it in the Hummer – read,

_PS. I didn't jimmy your door, by the way. Delko did. _

_PPS. I was just kidding about that first one. Horatio lent me the spare keys. _

_

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_

**while i'ma be working my bum off on the next chapters to be hopefully done before the christmas spirit fades, leave a review, please. i just love the warm fuzzy feeling they give me. :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**hiya! hope everyone had an awesome boxing day & that nobody got trampled in wal-mart or something. =P**

**nothing, really, to say, except a huge thanks for those who have read, reviewed, or done both. =D  
**

**here's the next installment!**

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_December 17__th_

Calleigh had never seen the man that was standing in her Ballistics Lab before. And because she knew everybody in the crime lab – even the people from swing shift and graveyard – whoever this guy was, he was not good news.

He wore street clothes, so he couldn't have been a deliveryman. And her lab was way off target with the receptionist's desk; he couldn't have simply 'gotten lost'. He was average-sized, tall but not giant, fit but not an intense gym member. Calleigh, just in case, felt around her waist for her gun as she kept her eyes locked on the stranger. Damn! Where was her gun?

It took her a quick millisecond to avert her eyes and see her black chunk of metal lying beside the microscope she was looking through just before she headed to the bathroom. Focusing back on the man, she was glad to know he hadn't noticed her yet.

Okay, so no gun. That's all right. She was standing in her lab. Where she had guns upon guns on racks and in storage.

Ah, crap. She must have been located at the farthest possible point from her wall of weapons and simultaneously still be in the room. Irony visits at just about the worst times. The ballistics expert was about to die, in her own lab (filled with usable guns, by the way), and she didn't even have a measly gun at arm's length.

A sigh escaped her lips just as she realized the slight noise it made. The man turned around and smiled. Probably happy to have a victim to hold for ransom or something.

"Miss...?" He spoke without making eye contact; he held a clipboard in one hand and was probably trying to pronounce her name properly.

She cleared her throat. "Duquesne. It's Southern. You can go ahead and mispronounce it. It's not like I'll kill you if you do." Who's to say she wasn't going to, but she'll never know since she had no gun to shoot him with in the first place.

He smiled sheepishly. She could tell he was starting to get scared. "All right, well, I'm just here to collect those things right over there." He pointed to the large black targets she would use to trap a bullet and then extract from. He didn't wait for any approval from the blonde. He just walked over and began to disassemble the posts.

Calleigh rushed over. Her worry about being killed had completely disappeared and was replaced by utter confusion. She wasn't sure she liked being confused any better.

"Wait, wait. Where are you from, exactly?"

"I've been called by your boss. One…" he consulted his clipboard again. "… Lieutenant Horatio Caine. He said he wanted these replaced with the ones with self-reconstructing material. He also wanted me to be inconspicuous and not let a blonde woman… oh, wait."

Calleigh, an obvious blonde, had her eyes narrowed. "What was that?"

The man sighed. He was caught; what was the point of keeping it a secret any longer? "Your boss was going to give the new targets to you as his Christmas present, because he knows you're the one who pays for the new ones every year. Now that the new ones can heal themselves you won't be needing to spend money on these bullet stopping things."

She nodded slowly. "And you weren't supposed to be seen by me?"

"Yeah. He said you weren't going to be back here for another hour." His gaze moved to the clock on one wall.

"Oh. Yeah, my bad. That clock's been stuck on that hour for a couple of days now. Just not tall enough to change the batteries, so I started relying on my watch."

"Oh, okay then. Do me a favor and don't let your boss know that you know about his little surprise, all right? I'll just mind my own business here and take these back to my truck."

"One more thing. I've got a bunch of guns left to process. What do I do now?"

He shrugged, returning to the black objects. "Dunno. Go old school, I guess. Use ballistics gel. Or even cheaper, use those rubber balls in the metal vase. Expect – or don't, since it supposed to be a shocker – the replacements to come tomorrow, maybe the day after."

Calleigh left the man to do his job so she could do hers. Within minutes he waved goodbye and greeted her a 'Merry Christmas'. She stood in her lab, hands on her hips. Old school? She hadn't done old school in years.

What did the guy say? Either ballistics gel or the metal vase. Since she didn't have a backup mixture of the gel ready to be shot at, she figured the vase would take a lot less work.

She retrieved the silver vase from its spot in one corner of the lab. Then she made the tunnel to shoot the gun through and connected it to the jug. Taking her police issue 9 millimeter gun, she decided to give it a shot with her own gun before using the guns in her caseload.

Wearing her bright blue earmuffs and clear goggles she placed her arm inside the tunnel and pulled the trigger. Success! The bullet was slowed down by the large black rubber balls inside the jug.

In no time Calleigh was at the other side of her contraption, tipping over the vase into a plastic container to find the bullet. When she placed a hand on the bottom surface for leverage, she felt a piece of paper. It was taped on the bottom, and undoubtedly addressed to her.

Calleigh returned to the container, now filled with the rubber balls, and used her fingers to search for the small bullet. She saw something red sparkle under the light with the rubber stoppers instead. She grabbed a hold of it, and lifted her arm.

A gold necklace drooped below her hand. Connected to the necklace were five gold rings, crafted into a chain link. And inside the third ring – the middle link – was a red heart dangling. Calleigh gasped as she realized that it was real gold and that the heart was an authentic ruby jewel.

She took the paper from underneath the metal jug and began to read, clutching the necklace to her heart.

_My Calleigh,_

_Don't ask how I knew you would use this instead of the ballistics gel. Just be glad that you did (and I'll be glad too, since it would have been hard to hide the letter and gift in a square block of gel). _

_I'll admit, this was the hardest gift to buy. I wasn't sure if you would like it. And this seemed more practical than getting you five actual golden rings. I like to think the world works in amazing ways whenever I find something that perfectly matches the song. _

She could feel the warm tears flowing down her face.

_No, no, no. Don't cry. Even if they're happy tears, I'll stop being sappy. _

_Today's the fifth day, and in my opinion, my favorite day. _

_**On the fifth day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Five golden rings**_

_So I went up to the jeweler and asked if I could take the heart out and just leave the gold rings according to the song. He said I'd need to pay extra. Pfft. Like hell I would. I would have been giving them a perfectly functional ruby charm and he's making me pay more. He should be the one paying me! So I left it, and thought it'd be better this way anyways. _

_It may not be the jewel of your birth month, but it's the jewel of mine. And even though it's the second-best gemstone, you're certainly not second-best in my books. Third, maybe fourth._

_Haha, just kidding. Number one, definitely. _

_Cheesily Yours,_

_Ryan_

_PS. Is 'cheesily' a word? If it's not, it is now._

_PPS. Don't wear it until you see me, please. I'd like to be the first to put it on you. _

Calleigh opened her fist to look at the necklace again. He was right, it did look better with the ruby heart. She never thought she could love a necklace so much.

But maybe she was just confusing that with her feelings for Ryan.

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**ooh, it's a little intense. i dunno what came over me; i just got all weird & dramatic. **

**let me know what you think - review me.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**firstly, i'd like to say, hooray! we're halfway there! **

**... that's about it. =P  
**

_

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December 18__th_

Detective Frank Tripp walked through the doors of the Crime Lab with his most important mission of the year: deliver his Christmas presents.

Yes, he knew it was a still a week before the 25th, but he wanted to spread the cheer sooner. Actually the presents were weighing down his car (gas prices lately have been ridiculous, and it wasn't like Frank was made of money), but he was going to tell everyone the first part, about the cheer.

The Texan walked up to the receptionist and brandished a small wrapped box for her. "Merry Christmas!" he said, handing her the box of Dutch butter cookies he received at a Christmas party the year before.

"Hope you like butter." The woman's eyebrows furrowed at the peculiar comment from the detective. She responded, "Oh, thank you. Merry Christmas to you too, sir," and gave him a basket wrapped in cellophane.

Frank was surprised – was the receptionist _crushing_ on him? He blushed furiously. He certainly wasn't expecting this.

"Really? This is for me?"

She looked up from her computer and removed her glasses. "Oh, no. It's for Ms. Duquesne. I saw that one of your presents had her name on it and thought that it would be easier if you just brought this basket up to her rather than have me call her down to pick it up." She smiled.

"Sure, a lot easier for you. You're not the one who's gotta carry the damn thing. What are these anyway?" The red and green cellophane prevented Frank from seeing the present clearly.

"Don't be such a complainer. We've got elevators, you know. And I know you're a gentleman. Bring the basket to her, please, and when you finish delivering your other presents, come visit me. There might be mistletoe hanging right where you're standing by then."

A shiver ran through Frank's spine. He tried to keep his face from twisting.

"You're married, aren't you? What would your husband think?"

"Oh, you. He doesn't have to know." She blew a kiss at him and shooed him off, telling him, "The faster you distribute your gifts, Mr. Tripp, the faster you'll get your Christmas present from me."

Frank nodded slowly, a tiny bit creeped out. He walked away, still in a daze.

No way, lady. He was going to take his sweet time being Santa Claus. And, for extra precaution, he was going to exit the building out back.

So there had better be a back door to this place.

--

Frank had made the stupidest route; his last stop ended up being Calleigh's lab, so he had to carry the basket _and_ his gift everywhere.

A little worn out, he stepped into the lab without acknowledging his presence. He needed a chair before his legs stopped working.

"Calleigh, have you got an extra chair?" He panted in between words. The blonde turned from her stool and offered it to him.

"No, but have mine. You need it more." Frank nodded his thanks and set the gifts on the table, making sure neither of them compromised the evidence Calleigh was working on.

"Frank, you do realize that Christmas day is _next _week, not today."

He looked at her blankly. "Yes, I know that. Forgive me if I just wanted to spread the Christmas cheer early."

"Oh, okay." She looked convinced enough. "So did you bring everyone two gifts each?" Calleigh motioned to the two separately wrapped presents.

"No, I brought everybody one. This basket came from the receptionist. Somebody had given it to her and asked her to page you to claim it downstairs, but she thought of the brilliant idea of making me her messenger boy."

Calleigh smiled, and reached for Frank's present. She asked if she could open it now, and the Texan didn't oppose to it, so she ripped the wrapper apart.

"You don't need to murder the thing, Calleigh. It'll still be there, however fast you open it."

But by then the gift was in plain sight. It was a set of lotions and moisturizers from Bath and Body Works. Her favorite scent, too.

"Oh! Frank! How did you know pomegranate was my favorite?" She opened a cap and sniffed, closed her eyes and smiled.

"More than a couple times I had smelled it when you were around. I thought it smelled familiar when one of my daughters came to visit a while ago. She told me it was the pomegranate lotion and that it was her favorite too."

Calleigh walked around the table and gave Frank a quick hug. "Thanks, Frank. Who knew you were so attentive?" she joked.

"My scent of smell is what gets me first in line for prime ribs. That, and I think I'm spending too much time with you CSIs."

"I'm sorry, Frank. But I don't have a present ready for you. I barely even started my shopping."

Frank smiled inwardly. How genius was he?

"No, no. That's alright. You were my last stop so I've gotten used to that already. I guess I'll just be going home empty-handed."

Calleigh smiled in an attempt to hide her shame. "Wait. There might be something in here I can give you."

Then Calleigh reached for the basket and began to untie the ribbon that held up the cellophane. Frank sat, recuperating, and watched her open the currently anonymous present.

She took out the letter from the all too familiar white envelope and started to read.

_Cal,_

_I haven't seen you all day. I hope you're not alone when you see this, because this sixth day can be shared. _

_You've probably been waiting for this. But rituals are cool, so just let me tell you that today is the sixth day._

_**On the sixth day of Christmas **_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Six geese-a-laying**_

_Go ahead, take a gander at what's in the basket. _

The wooden basket – those ones perfect for handing out Easter eggs – held six eggs. Six large eggs, to be precise. Each one was wrapped in Christmas-colored foil, some with designs and others in plain red and green.

_Consider this an early Easter present. I had the choice between a half dozen goose eggs or chocolate goose eggs. I thought you would prefer the chocolate. Chocolate is a girl's best friend, right? Well, after me…and diamonds, and ice cream. _

_I think one goose egg is equivalent to three or four chicken eggs; they're huge! And if I remember correctly, two are hollow, two have caramel, and the last two are whole milk chocolate eggs. I just can't recall which wrapper is for which kind. If you need help distinguishing them, give me a call. I wouldn't mind running down there and taking a bite out of each one. _

_Don't die of chocolate overdose. At least, not without me. _

_Your chocolate-loving soul mate,_

_Ryan_

_PS. Question: if it's more than one is it goose eggs or geese eggs? _

"So Calleigh, who's it from?"

She answered with a simple "Ryan," as she took one out and began examining the giant egg. If felt light so it must be a hollow one.

Frank shrugged. "Ryan? That's cool. Oh look, there's six eggs. Colossal, too. Just so you know, I like chocolate."

Calleigh sighed; Ryan did tell her to share, but she planned on keeping all the eggs and giving the detective something else. Something she wouldn't have a use for. "All right, Frank. Take your pick."

He grabbed a colorfully-wrapped egg and nodded his thanks. Calleigh felt a bit better. At least now Frank wouldn't be going home without a gift.

They greeted each other with a 'See you later' and Frank made his way to the door. Then he turned around and remembered something.

"Do you by any chance have a back door leading outside?"

The blonde's confused look left as soon as it came. She caught on with the Texan. "The receptionist creep you out with her mistletoe comment?"

"Yeah. Lady never gives up. She does this every year."

"Except this time you don't have to run across the foyer, because now you're smart enough to ask us about a back door."

"Better late than never. I wonder why I never thought of that, though."

"Well, we don't have one." Frank's face fell. "But," she continued, "you could go take the elevator to the parking garage and walk your way out to the front parking lot." He wasn't sure he liked the idea of walking for so long that he even considered being chased by the receptionist.

Calleigh noticed him pondering, unsure. "You can also go up to the roof, jump off, and hope you'll land in one piece. One _alive_ piece."

"On second thought, I think I'll just mosey on to the parking garage. I need the exercise, anyway."

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**was that a freaky receptionist or what? hehe i just thought our very own Frank Tripp doesn't get picked on very much, so i evened that up. **

**it's currently 5 minutes to midnight (it's a boys like girls song!), so technically, i can still say 'happy boxing day!' **

**clickie the button & see where that takes you. hopefully to the land of reviews.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**hi! thanks soo much for the reviews; i love that you guys are enjoying this. as long as it takes for me to write it & tweak it, i always have a hilarious time just fantasizing the characters doing it. **

**i hope hope hope you still have some Christmas spirit left in you, because i've got a couple more chapters to go.**

**so, enjoy!  
**

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_December 19__th_

If there was one thing Calleigh Duquesne hated more than death, it would definitely be _smelly_ death. She and Natalia had the bad luck of spending their Friday morning in the small cramped one-room apartment of a bloater. A bloater whose remains weren't contained in a single space; the murderer left them a nice soup as a gift.

Whoever made up TGIF has obviously never been in the same room as a bloater.

Natalia's Hummer smelled, Alexx's van most probably smelled, and worst of all, _they_ smelled.

"Of all the days to get a bloater, huh?" Natalia made a smooth left turn into the parking lot of the lab.

"I'd rather not get a bloater on _any_ day." Although she would never admit it, she was glad they didn't take her company vehicle; at least all she had to clean was herself.

"Mm. You got that right. I would like nothing more than to soak myself in a nice warm hot tub."

"Oh, of course. Right up until I get raisin skin," Calleigh added. Both women dreamed for a while, knowing that in their line of work the longest shower they could take was probably fifteen minutes tops.

'Crime never takes a shower', Horatio would probably say. Yeah, but crime's not the one who stood in what was once a whole person, and crime didn't stay behind to watch their handiwork rot.

They walked swiftly to the showers, ignoring the disgusted looks and the epic covering of noses.

"Look at these people. It's like they've never smelled decomp." Calleigh whispered to Natalia.

"I know! I think they're just exaggerating. We don't smell that bad, do we?"

She earned a 'what do you think?' glare from the blonde. "Okay, I take that back. Still, overdramatic much?" Natalia said the last sentence loud enough on purpose for everyone to hear.

The women's shower room was empty. Both women had already retrieved their change of clothes from the locker room – they cleared the room inhumanly fast – and were getting ready to step into separate stalls.

"Oh, no." Natalia, wrapped only in a towel, turned to Calleigh, who was still undressing. "I forgot to pick up some lemons from the break room."

"Call Maxine and ask her to drop some off," Calleigh suggested, standing up and wrapping her body with a similar white towel before turning to Natalia.

"Except we left our cell phones in our lockers… You know what? You go on ahead. I'll just find a bathrobe and get them myself. I'll cover myself in ten towels if I have to."

Calleigh nodded, and the women went their different ways.

--

Calleigh removed her slippers and stepped in the wide room. One side of the shower room had stalls – at most, ten women could shower simultaneously. The other side was a row of hooks for towels, clothes, pretty much anything hook-able. The floor was typically bathroom-tiled, with several drains in a straight line to prevent flooding.

A big chunk of white stood out among the brown tiles and walls. Calleigh had never seen it there before, and there was no news of a renovation. Slowly she walked up to it, one arm across her chest to keep the towel up.

It was a bathtub. The tub was filled about ¾ full with lukewarm water. But what made Calleigh smile was the seven white toys floating around.

Looking at her reflection, she noticed a distorted black lettering at the bottom of the tub. She reached in and fished out a letter inside a clear plastic bag. The letter was unfolded, and once she wiped away the drops of water left behind, she could read the words clearly.

_To my favorite lady,_

_You not only reek of decomp, you also reek of everything that's wonderful. _

…

_Man, how lame was that? Sorry, I tried. _

_How about I start over?_

_Firstly, I had no influence whatsoever about you and Natalia getting the bloater and me and Delko getting the open-and-shut robbery case. It's over and done with, so just…think positive about this: Lucky for me that I got this all set up, and lucky for you to get this all set up. So now we're both lucky._

_Today is the seventh day. _

_**On the seventh day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Sevens swans-a-swimming**_

_I couldn't find swimming swans. Well I could, but none that could all fit in the bathtub. So I went home (ahem, I mean, I went to the store) and got seven yellow rubber duckies. Then I came back to work and painted them white with waterproof paint. Actually, I dipped the duckies one by one in a tub of paint and then I dried them in Delko's fuming hood while he wasn't looking, but nobody needs to know that._

_So go ahead and take as long as you'd like in the bathtub. Play with the 'swans' like you used to when you were a child – haha, or in my case, 'like you used to yesterday night' – and relax. Horatio's out on a call; he won't be bothering you with his 'Crime never takes a shower' speech. _

_Enjoy the bath, Cal._

_Waiting for your lemon-freshness, _

_Ryan_

_PS. When you see Maxine, give her a huge hug and owe her your life, because I certainly wasn't the one who got the bathtub in there. I know my limits when it comes to gender-separated showers. _

_PPS. No need to slice your lemons. The water's been lemon-ed. _

_PPPS. I gotta try this again, so bare with me, okay? Take two._

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_Even though you stink,_

_I still love you._

_How's that? _

Calleigh clutched the letter in one hand, let her towel drop, and stepped in the bathtub. She moaned slightly at the warmness of the water and slowly she lowered herself until only her neck was above surface and the water was up to the brim of the tub. The lemons started to work their magic.

She took a rubber swan and squeezed it, its squeak the only sound to be heard in the shower room. Then she placed it back down, watched it float away from the other six, and created a current with her free hand to direct it back to the fleet.

Then she read his poem again and again until it was all she could think about. With a big smile across her beautiful face she whispered, "I love you too."

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**aw, even though i wrote it, i still think the last part's so cute. haha & the poem was so lame; my bad.  
**

**let me know what you think! :]  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**hm. so seeing as how my calculations have failed me - i wanted the 12th day to be on christmas day but now it seems that it'll be on christmas eve - i decided to make a little epilogue to take place on the 25th. besides, i made a prologue too, so it'd make sense, right?**

**well, here it is, chapter nine. got 4 more to go! :]  
**

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_December 20__th_

Ryan was running late. It wasn't like him to be off schedule, but it wasn't like his usually dependable car to just burst a tire, either.

So when he got to the Crime Lab an hour later than he had anticipated, everything was going wrong.

He had to leave his car at the convenience store, where it would wait approximately 3 hours before the towing company could bring it to the lab. The weather just happened to spike up when he was walking back to work, so he was sweating like crazy and would probably get sick as soon as the A/C cools his perspiration. To top it all off, his present for Calleigh was only half-fulfilled, and he still hasn't written her a letter.

Oh, and Rick Stetler just ran into him in the front lobby. Ryan was caught off guard by the sudden crash; he was too busy thinking of how to fix everything in time.

"Hey, man. Watch it!" The grocery bags Ryan was carrying almost flew out of his hands and it took a few seconds for him to regain his balance.

"Sorry, sorry." Rick looked down and straightened his suit.

In chorus they made eye contact. Both sets of eyes darkened considerably.

"Stetler."

"Wolfe."

"Come here to be our own personal Scrooge? Getting ready to be the Grinch and steal Christmas from us?" Haha! He'd been waiting the whole _year_ to say that!

Rick's eyes narrowed into thin slits. He tilted his head slightly and crossed his arms. "Actually, no. I was planning on doing a good deed today, but since it's clear I'm not wanted here, I think I'll just leave."

Ryan snorted. "The chances of the words 'Rick Stetler' and 'doing a good deed' being in the same sentence are slim to none, and I'm leaning towards less than none. So What do you really want, Rick?"

The IAB agent took this as his cue. He took a deep breath; it's not everyday Rick Stetler did something for the good of humanity. "I just wanted to give you a heads up about your car."

"My car? What about it?"

Rick could not seem to move his mouth under the hard stare Ryan was giving him, so he prodded more. "What did you do to my car?"

"… I may have switched one of the tires."

"_May have?_ There's no 'may have', here, buddy. Either it's 'you did' or 'you didn't'. And let me tell you something: the second choice is the one you're gonna wanna pick, because it's the one that won't have your nose broken."

"Well, as long as you don't use it, I can still swap the tires. Yours is in the garage right now."

The older man could swear Ryan had smoke fuming out of this ears and nostrils. "Oh yeah, sure thing, _Rick_. You totally could just exchange the wheels. Only one of them's not working anymore. You wanna know why? Because you didn't tell me early enough, and I drove my car to the store, and the tire _burst_! You want the tire back? You're gonna have to pick up the pieces of rubber on the damn streets."

By this time Rick could feel air escaping Ryan's nostrils due to the close proximity. He may have been some inches shorter, but Rick was definitely scared of what he could do. He was a CSI; he could easily hide his body.

"Why'd you do it anyway? Wait, you know what? I don't even want to know."

He held his hands in surrender and stepped back. Rick was never good with closed spaces. "All right, all right, Wolfe. I'll pay for the towing service."

"Damn right you will. And you're real lucky I won't be arresting you for robbery. There's something you can do for me that'll save you from being locked up during Christmas."

"Gee, thanks, Wolfe. That may be the best Christmas present anyone's ever gotten me." Rick had dipped his comment in obvious sarcasm.

"Your cynicism won't be helping your case, Stetler. And I'm pretty sure this is the only present you've ever gotten your whole life, so be grateful. Or at least pretend you're thankful."

--

Calleigh was ready for a break. She and Natalia finally closed their bloater case, and a break was as close to a perfect reward as she could get while she was still on the clock.

The break room counter was usually supposed to be clear. But this time it was covered in containers and bags of all sorts of shapes. Calleigh walked closer, examining the food.

There were brown paper bag lunches, cans of soda, water bottles, salad dressing bottles, Tupperwares full of leftovers, loaves of bread; it was almost as if the whole fridge was emptied. Calleigh noticed that most of them had the words PROPERTY OF ERIC DELKO; DO NOT TOUCH, WOLFE/COOPER scribbled on them, and if it didn't, it said COOPER'S instead.

Calleigh smirked. There could only be one person behind this little scheme: Ryan Wolfe.

She pulled open the refrigerator, hoping to find something inside from him. There was an envelope that rested on several cartons of milk. Eight, to be exact. And Calleigh already knew what was coming.

_To the Bullet Girl,_

_Can you believe I never called you that before? I think it's kind of odd. _

_You better read this letter quick, before the food I oh-so-graciously left on the counter starts to turn bad. I don't have another bathtub filled with lemon water for you to soak in. So, without further ado, today's the eighth day. _

_**On the eighth day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Eight maids-a-milking**_

_You'll notice eight cartons of milk in the fridge. Obviously, those are yours. They're chocolate soy milk – I know the flavor's your favorite because if it's not water or coffee, it's the only other thing you drink. _

_I apologize in advance for one of them already being open. See, my car burst a tire and I had to walk back to the lab on foot. The weather just happened to spike during my expedition and my throat got a little dry. I hope you don't mind._

Calleigh searched for the opened carton and took it out. Suddenly she felt like having some chocolate soy milk.

_So the milk covers the milking part of today's verse. At first I was stuck with what to do with the maids section, but it worked itself out. There's another letter attached with this one; take a little look-see at it._

_From the… we need a nickname for me. _

Calleigh laughed softly, then flipped the page.

_Miss Duquesne, I am writing this as proof that I, Rick Stetler, offer my services to you, in return to a favor Mr. Wolfe has provided me. I shall gladly give your company car – the Hummer assigned under your name – a carwash with my own hands for a total of eight times. _

_Should you be dissatisfied with my work, please consult with Mr. Wolfe and he shall contemplate on a reasonable punishment for my lack of cleanliness. _

_- Rick Stetler_

At the bottom of that page, Ryan's familiar handwriting said:

_Stetler's your personal maid when it concerns your car. How I got him to do this, you will never know._

Calleigh smiled (she liked how much more she smiled after reading his letters), and made sure to keep Stetler's letter in a safe place for proof. Then she took her half-carton of soy milk and left the room, determined not to return until the inevitable smell of rotting food was non-existent.

On second thought, maybe she should take a couple more cartons. Getting rid of the smell might take a while.

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**cross your fingers - & your toes if you can! - that i finish the last four chapters by the end of today. if not, it'll be early early morning of the 29th. **

**so, leave as many reviews as you can! they're my red bull/gatorade/nutella, in case you'd like to know. i work faster when there's lots of comments! ;]  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**oh, man. this is uber long. i have to say, though, i think this is my favorite chapter. i'd been waiting to do the ninth day all week. **

**so if i don't fall asleep on my keyboard (it's currently 2 in the morning right now), the next chapter should be up & waiting to be read. if not, it'll be there soon enough.**

**i'm so sorry for this coming so many days after Christmas. thank you guys so much for still reading! :]  
**

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_December 21__st_

Resident day shift nerd Dan Cooper sat at his desk and made himself look like he was doing something important. In reality, he was just getting a video ready for Ryan.

Once the burned DVD was running in the computer he laced his fingers together and cracked them in unison before typing technology jargon onto the screen. He set up the video to be played by the next person to step into his A/V lab.

Then, turning off the hologram screen the government had provided him with some months earlier, Dan opened up his personal laptop and connected some wires into it. Making sure the screen was covered by his body at all times, he successfully hacked into the lab's camera system.

Dan was a bit nervous. Man, if he got caught, Ryan was going down with him. He worked fast but kept himself under the radar. Flipping through the camera feeds, he found the one he needed. The subject was walking in the direction of his lab.

Great, everything was going according to plan. He closed the feeds, reconnected the wires to the lab's hard drive, and shut down his own laptop. Then he turned on that wicked hologram and the touch screen surface.

Knowing he had a couple seconds left before the subject reached his humble abode, he quickly hung up his lab coat and exited the room.

"Cooper." The subject's Southern accent froze Dan in his place. He turned slowly, facing them, and smiled sheepishly.

"Hey there, Calleigh. How're you doing?" He put his hands in his back pockets and balanced his body on the balls of his feet, swaying back and forth and earning a look of confusion from the blonde.

"I'm…good. Have you analyzed the video I gave you yet?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. It's right inside. Just press play and watch it. I'll be right back; just gotta get refueled with some Red Bull."

Without waiting for an answer he hightailed it down the hallway. He was out of Calleigh's sight in seconds. She wondered briefly what would make him leave so quickly, but the thought was replaced when she entered the room.

Taking a seat, she glanced at the touch screen device and saw that the opened file had a black screen and the words WATCH ME in white. A little puzzled, she touched the play button and watched as a million pixels formed in front of her eyes out of thin air. She always felt so giddy seeing it happen; it was kind of like watching a magic trick.

The first picture that appeared was a set of perfect white teeth curled into a large smile. Then they backed up to reveal the adorable face of Ryan Wolfe. With Calleigh in complete CSI mode she noted that he must have recorded this in one of the layout rooms; only those rooms had the tall table he was sitting on and swaying he feet from.

With open arms – as if he was motioning for a hug – he began to talk.

"_Hey you. It's me, obviously. If you're watching this, this means Cooper did his job properly and I owe him a foot rub."_

Calleigh's eyebrows coiled into waves of confusion. And as if Ryan was actually there in person, he spoke up with flawless timing. Seemingly knowing that Calleigh would get bemused, he answered what she was wondering with a shrug.

"_Yeah, I know. The guy sits in front of the coolest gizmos in the whole building – sometimes for hours at a time - and he barely uses his legs, let alone his feet. And yet he still wants a foot massage. You see what I have to go through for you, Cal?"_

He grinned right after so show her he didn't mind the giving Cooper's possibly bunion-colonized feet a good rub, if it meant making her happy. Calleigh wasn't sure if her face could endure the wide smile she was trying to return to Ryan.

"_Okay. So before we start, I believe there should be a foil-wrapped egg to your left. I took the liberty of making Cooper leave it there for you. I'll just wait a couple seconds and let you unwrap it and take a bite."_

Calleigh did as she was told, finding the egg easily – it was massive! – and unwrapping it. She licked it, leaving the chocolate lingering in her mouth. Mm, she hasn't had chocolate in a while.

"_Cal, I said bite, not lick. You know, the one where the little white things in your mouth take out a chunk of the candy and leave marks." _

She laughed; how was he able to do that? She'd tried her hardest to distance herself from everyone – especially men – but with Ryan her walls just came crashing down. While it was creepy how she didn't even notice she was letting him in, it was comforting at the same time that he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Because it meant he already knew she loved him without her having to tell him.

So she took a large bite, and found out that the egg was pure milk chocolate. Good; she wasn't in the mood for caramel, anyway.

"_Haha, alright. Now that you've been fed – there's also some of the chocolate soy milk from yesterday there if you haven't noticed yet – oh, right. Almost forgot. I took an egg too…"_

Ryan took a half-eaten egg from behind him and held it out for her to see.

"_No, actually I see you gave Frank Tripp one of them. Not that I don't mind, it's just…you fell for his 'I'll-pass-out-my-presents-early-so-that-nobody'll-have-done-their-Christmast-shopping-yet-and-in-pity-they'll-have-to-give-me-what-I-want-at-that-moment' scheme. Don't worry, so did I, and apparently everyone else in the lab, too. Tripp sure has stones, tricking us CSI's with his conspiracies. But I think I got him for that._

_Consider this a prologue. Today's the ninth day._

_**On the ninth day of Christmas **_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Nine ladies dancing**_

_Don't pause this just yet. Listening to my hot and sexy singing voice won't be as satisfying as what's about to happen."_

He winked; she was definitely going to be replaying that part later.

"_I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, Cal, but promise me you won't tell anyone."_

Ryan jumped off the table he was sitting on and walked toward the video camera, creating a feeling of secrecy. He covered one side of his mouth with a hand, and whispered to the camera.

"_See, I figured, why get some random group of nine ladies and have them dance for you when I've got a whole set of scapegoats in the lab? And they're free too! _

_I gave your father a call last night and asked him if he knew your favorite dance. He told me Viennese Waltz, to which I told him, 'Sir, I can't get a group of people with two left feet to learn the Viennese Waltz in half a day.' And then he laughed for about five minutes, told me I was a witty guy who was perfect for his daughter's quips. I told him that I try all the time but nobody beats you when you get smart; you even outtalk Delko in Spanish, and he's Cuban. And then the Spanish comment I gave must have triggered something in his brain, because then he told me that the next best thing was the dance scene in Zorro. _

_Oh. Your father says 'Hi Lambchop', by the way._

_So anyway, I gathered up the team, and then some, and asked them to help me recreate the scene of our recent case. What luck that we get a case where the victim was killed by the dancing troupe on stage, huh? I think that's the powers that be's way of telling me this plan was genius. _

_We, uh…had to improvise on some of the costumes, but with the way we were all dancing, we'd count as women. Just… ladies without any dancing skills. _

_So take a couple more bites of that egg, sit back, and enjoy."_

The feed darkened to a black screen for a few seconds before the hologram cleared up again. This time the setting was one of the garages where the team usually processed cars; it must have been the only place where they could have gotten enough space and no onlookers.

Calleigh burst out laughing when she saw her friends all dressed up and standing in pairs. Natalia with Eric, Alexx with Horatio, Maxine with Dan, and perhaps the funniest couple of all, Rick with Frank. How Ryan had gotten them to do this, she could not imagine.

She watched, still in her laughing fit, as Maxine tried to straighten out the ruffles of her Spanish dress. _"Where'd you get these clothes, anyway, Ryan? They're starting to itch me." _Ryan, out of focus – probably because he was behind the camera – responded: _"That…is unnecessary information. And if you think real hard and believe you're not itchy, then you won't be."_ Maxine glared at the camera.

"_Yeah, you're not the one who's gotta wear this thing."_

"_Would you rather wear what I am? I had to improvise mine; I look like a retard."_

"_You don't need the costume to look it, Wolfe." _A snort came from Eric.

"_I'd rethink what I'm saying if I were you, Delko, or I can just as easily get you to switch outfits with Stetler. You guys look pretty much the same size."_

The camera moved to show Rick Stetler, the IAB agent who tries so hard to be masculine, sporting a frilly red dress with white sleeves. It was long enough to hide most of his somewhat hairy legs.

"_Are you kidding? Stetler's puny!" _The spotlight still on Rick, Calleigh saw him flick his head straight at the direction of Delko's voice and frowned at him.

"_Then close your mouth and participate. Natalia, would you mind pressing the play button?"_

"_Mr. Wolfe, before we start, I have a question. Does Alexx have to be my partner? Not that I don't enjoy dancing with you, Alexx, it's just…let's just say from now on you're not allowed to wear 3-inch pumps to work."_

"_Horatio! I don't dance that poorly!"_

"_Remember when you said you sometimes felt like you were stepping on clouds during our practicing? Yeah, that was my foot." _

"_H, if Delko, Cooper, or Tripp want to switch partners, then sure. The footwork's the same for all of you anyway."_

Calleigh giggled. Where was she during all this? She hadn't realized it before, but her friends were far more hilarious than she remembered them – especially Horatio!

She continued to erupt in laughter as Eric and Dan clutched their respective partners closer; neither of them clearly wanted Alexx to step on their toes. Horatio's only other option was Stetler. Tripp stepped back graciously, and offered his partner to the redhead. Horatio immediately rethought his question and said, _"Mm. No thanks, Frank. I think I'll stay with Alexx here. I'll take bloody toes over Rick any day." _

"_All right, everything settled? Everybody remember their moves? Nod, so at least I'm consoled by fake reassurance. Okay, Natalia? If you could just press play?"_

And the familiar upbeat song from Calleigh's second favorite dance scene filled the room. She had to admit, with roughly half a day of practice, they weren't half bad. Actually, they were pretty bad, but she was an optimist.

She could barely keep her hold on her chocolate egg and almost – more than once – spilled the milk all over her clothes as she kept her eyes glued to the screen. She caught every misstep, every wrong turn, every ungraceful movement the four pairs made.

She watched Horatio's face cringe each time Alexx's pumps stepped on his leather shoes, watched Natalia have to bend in an awkward position to get under the twirl and Eric go on tiptoes (because her height was just a teensy bit taller than Eric's in her heels) and leave them a beat behind. She looked on as Dan kept confusing left turns for right turns and Maxine doing the exact opposite.

But perhaps the greatest couple in the video was Rick and Frank, because they were _actually_ in sync. Sure, they needed to be a lot more flexible, but at least they weren't slowly killing each other with each dance step.

Calleigh counted eight. Wait a minute. Wasn't it the _ninth_ day? Where was Ryan?

Right after the thought made itself known in Calleigh's brain a stranger in black drifted in the background. Oh, no. It couldn't be…

Ryan Wolfe was dressed as Zorro. Well, as best dressed as he could get without going costume-shopping. He looked more like a deranged garbage man than a hero. He wore a plain black undershirt, a pair of the black waterproof suspenders that the CSI's used for their journeys in the Everglades, and black rubber galoshes. His cape wasn't even black; it was just a really _really_ dark blue shower curtain.

His dark hair was wrapped in a black cloth, and his hat and mask were probably the only things that he didn't have to be resourceful for. Still, even with his ridiculous attire, she couldn't help but love him just a little bit more. No question, he would go to great lengths to make her happy, and that was rare to find these days.

Plus, he looked way hot in his Zorro costume.

In true Spanish hero character, Ryan bent his back forward and ran swiftly between the four pairs, and with excellent timing, covered the camera with his cape just as the song finished. Still, the cape couldn't cover the hard _thud!_ of someone being dropped from the final dip.

She couldn't tell who it was, but that was okay. She could just pat them all on the shoulder and see which one winces from the bruise that formed.

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**haha this is officially the highlight of the whole story... so far. **

**thanks a bunch for those who have reviewed; your comments are so cute & at the last chapter i promise to respond & comment to those that need commenting. everybody's been so nice lately.**

**hopefully there's still some nice left? =P leave a comment, pretty please. four chapters to go!  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**omgosh, i'm so happy right now. thank you soooo much for all the reviews & putting me on your faves / alerts & the love! awesomest online present ever! everyone's so nice. i sure hope i'm still making you guys laugh this far down the story. **

**so this chapter's basically a huge breakthrough to Calleigh/Ryan's relationship. that was what made the chapter long, actually. **

**ah! new year's coming! which means school's around the corner. -_- **

**but enough of the unfortunate things. on with the story! enjoy! :]  
**

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_December 22__nd_

Calleigh stepped down from the ladder and admired her work. The tinsel sparkled in the fluorescent light. It made her lab feel more Christmassy and less violent.

She had lowered her caseload considerably, and as a reward to herself had decided to decorate her lab. She was sure the experts from night and graveyard wouldn't mind, seeing as how she was sharing her equipment with them.

And she'd look like a party pooper if she didn't add a little holiday cheer here and there; even the interrogation rooms and temporary holding cells were decorated (no tinsel for suffocating, though).

She folded the ladder and put it away. Then Eric Delko rushed in, his face expressing a clouded mind. He wore a 'help me clear something out' stare. Ryan followed the Cuban soon after, walking in the room with a pleading look on his face.

"So let me get this straight." Eric turned to Ryan, then to Calleigh, then continued, "You, Wolfe, are trying to tell me that you have a thing going on with Calleigh? Calleigh Duquesne, Bullet Girl, the one who lives by 'if you condescend me in any way I'll break your arm in three places' as a motto. That Calleigh?"

"She's the one. Look, I'm sorry. It slipped out. Nobody was supposed to know. At least, until Cal felt comfortable enough to tell everybody." Ryan walked closer to Calleigh, silently asking her to play along.

"Well, I guess now that the word's out, now's as good a time as any," Calleigh got the message. Ryan's face relaxed significantly. She wrapped her arm around his waist to let him know it was okay. He responded by placing his own arm around her shoulder.

Eric could only look with eyes wide open and jaw to the floor. He always thought they were good for each other, but he never expected them to act upon their feelings. Not now, at least.

"I believe you owe me 20 bucks," Ryan held out a hand and motioned for Eric to pay him.

"Hold on, hold on. If you really are together – not faking it for the sake of robbing me of 20 dollars – prove it. Kiss."

Ryan laughed nervously. "I…Cal's not comfortable kissing in public."

"When'd I say that?" She felt mischievous. Hey, if it meant kissing him, why not?

The Cuban crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"Just kiss me, Ryan," she said, and took his hand into her own.

He leaned in and their lips touched. Ryan was gentle, but full of passion. His lips tasted so good. His arms found their way to her hips, and her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. Calleigh wanted more, so much more, and though he found it hard not to continue, Ryan had parted. It was only a demonstration for the third occupant in the room.

"Damn it. I thought you'd be faking the whole thing but that little smooch had…something that can't be faked. Break her heart, Wolfe, and I'll break your face. She's like another sister to me."

They'd returned to their position from before, arm around his waist and arm around her shoulder. "I wouldn't dream of it, Delko. Besides, you probably can't even land a blow on me. You like me too much."

Eric chortled. "Yeah, that's what I want you to think, man. That way when you least expect it, the bones of your face will suddenly be broken." He turned to leave when Ryan cleared his throat.

"Sorry, buddy. Don't have any cough drops."

"Delko, you moron. You can't run away forever."

"I know. That's why I've got a car."

"Give me my 20 bucks, Delko. I won it, fair and square."

"Fine, fine. Congratulations. Go and buy Calleigh something pretty." Eric fished out a 20 dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Ryan.

"Why would she need something pretty when she's got me?"

"You're exactly why she needs something else to look at."

"You know," Calleigh started after Eric left, "your bickering should be edited into Einstein's quote. The 'two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity' one. Seriously, it's never-ending!"

"I think it's fun. I don't know about him, but thinking of new insults keeps me sharp. And we're just joking around, anyways, so it's all good. Thanks, by the way, for playing along."

She turned to him, green eyes twinkling. "Who said I was playing along?"

He smiled, speechless. So she continued.

"How well do you think you know me?"

"Inside and out."

"Then you must already know that –"

"-that you love me? Mm-hmm. It just sounds better in my ears when you say it."

"Well, then. I love you, Ryan Wolfe. And I can't thank you enough for your sweetness with all these gifts."

"No need to thank me. Just remember the song or all my efforts will go to waste." He winked. "We're not done yet, by the way. There's three more days left. Oh. That reminds me. Your next present is coming. I have to go."

Ryan took one of her hands and squeezed it. He kissed her cheek, then hesitantly let go of her hand. It had been a while since he felt her soft skin on his, and he never wanted to let go. But it was the tenth day, and he could hold her hand until tomorrow, but tomorrow wouldn't be the tenth day anymore so his present came first.

He left her side, but flashed her a smile before pushing the door open and leaving the room.

A few seconds later he returned, and pointed to one of the tinsels. "That one's crooked." He left as fast as he had come back.

Calleigh sighed. Up the ladder again she goes.

--

The intercom overhead brought her out of her reverie. She had been daydreaming of what had taken place in her lab a while ago, repeating the events over and over again until she was sure it had all been a cruel dream.

But she could still taste him on her lips, so she was certain it really happened.

"Officer Duquesne? It's Paula." The voice was unusually clear – normally the intercom would make static out of nowhere.

"Paula, we've known each other for years. How many times can I tell you that first-name basis means you can call me Calleigh?"

She could hear the uncertainty in the policewoman's voice. "Okay, um… Calleigh, there's someone waiting for you. A Lord…something. I didn't catch the name. He was sent by Officer Wolfe to the police station. I figure he's probably sitting in one of the interrogation rooms."

"Huh. That's a bit weird. The only open case I've got has been cold for weeks, and all of a sudden some guy just walks in who's connected somehow?"

"He said he was a bit out of it when the case was hot, but now that it's died down, it's like his memory is 'fresh out of the oven'. His exact words."

"Hm. Alright, then. Thanks, Paula. I'll drop by right now."

Calleigh was beginning to think the man was a phony, especially with that line he'd used. Fresh out of the oven? Who uses that?

She put her gun on her holster, just in case her new suspect was… well, nuts. And then after she would shoot the guy in self-defense, she'd go and pay Ryan a visit with her gun unlocked and her finger on the trigger for sending her to a crazy person four days before Christmas.

--

There was nobody inside the interrogation room. Calleigh could already see from afar that the room the lord was supposed to be in was empty. She was about to turn around and leave – and shoot Ryan in the leg – when a gleam caught her eye.

She followed the flash until it led her to the lord's supposed interrogation room. She smiled; now she got it. She'd assumed that the lord was an actual person. But it was a cookie cutter. Well, ten of them, actually, all arranged standing in a pyramid.

Afraid to topple the pyramid if she took one, she picked up the letter set beside the baking stencils and began to read instead.

_My sweet (insert baked good here),_

_Before you hunt me down and shoot me, hear me out… It was Paula's idea. _

Calleigh rolled her eyes. Sometimes he could be so childish, putting the blame on Paula when it was clearly his.

_Seriously! She's got a hidden evil soul she only unleashes when I'm around. I thought of just graciously giving the cookie cutters to you in person, but nooo. Paula suggests we trick you! And pretend you've got some suspect waiting for you named Lord something so you'll come before somebody else steals them. _

_So now that we've gotten that all cleared up – I promise not to tell anyone when Paula mysteriously disappears –, today's the tenth day._

_**On the tenth day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Ten lords-a-leaping**_

_Lord William and Lord Harry – aka Prince William and Prince Harry – were too busy with British things to come and visit. I think they're just making excuses. It's not like they're too poor to fly down here for a couple hours and leap in front of you. _

_So you're stuck with these. Ten cookie cutters of Lords-a-leaping. If you really want to, you can name the two lords in the second tier of pyramid William and Harry, because obviously the one on top is going to be named Ryan. I'm cooler than them anyway. I'm just not second or third in line of succession to the British throne (I had to Wikipedia what they were actually in line for). _

_I'm sure the Culinaria France book I got you from the third day has some baking recipes where you can use the cookie cutters. And if they don't, you can use them for decorating beef. I think it'd be fantastic to have a lord-shaped beefsteak (ahem – cough cough, hint hint)._

_With love,_

_Your Lord Charming (aka Prince Charming)_

Calleigh beamed. She took down the pyramid of lords and gathered them in her arms. She was beginning to rethink shooting Ryan in the leg for tricking her.

She'll shoot him in the foot instead.

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**veteran readers, you know what to do.**

**new visitors, hey! glad you could make it. thanks for reading. clickie the button, pretty please, & leave a review.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**hiya! sorry for the shortness of this chappie; i kinda ran out of ideas on this one. but not to worry; the last two chapters - especially the epilogue! - will have more content. funnier stuff too, hopefully.**

**thanks for the comments! it feels great to have beaten the reviews from my first story - Cupid Schmoopid (which is still in progress; will be picked up when Valentine's is close) - & reached the 30-goal. :] thank you for sticking around & for keeping up with my stories.**

**so, read quick, read slow, whatever you like. the last two chapters should be up soon, so no need to wait on the edges of your seats. =P**

**happy reading!  
**

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_December 23rd _

The shrill ringtone of her cell phone broke the comfortable silence of the elevator. She made sure to remember to send Verizon a thank-you note for giving her a signal in the cramped space.

"Duquesne."

"Hey, it's me. They finally got my car towed in, stupid company. They tell me three hours; turns out to be three days. I'll give them a piece of my mind and comment on their services by dropping off a basket of poisonous muffins with a tag saying 'anonymous'. That'll teach them."

She chuckled softly. "Calm down, Ryan. It's Christmas – everybody's cars are breaking down, either because of all the presents they buy, or because –"

"– because they eat like it's a buffet every single meal, yeah, I know. But still. If there happens to be a murder there any time soon –"

Now it was Calleigh's turn to interrupt. "Ryan! I can't believe you'd be wishing someone over there a death wish. Take it back. And don't even think it!" He could hear the smile in her voice. "What was it that you wanted?"

By this time she was casually walking down the hallway. Then she stopped and leaned against the wall, putting a leather-booted foot on the wall.

"I just wanted to ask you if you could check that all my stuff's still in there. And if something's missing, I'll throw in a bottle of cyanide-laced wine to my present for them."

She rolled her eyes and thought that Ryan probably knew she would. Ignoring him, she continued, "How am I supposed to know what's in there?"

"Cal, I'm OCD. There's a list clipped onto the visor of the driver's side. You probably won't need it – I'm almost certain their hands are constantly stained with oil. That's how they pretend they're working when they're lounging around. Well, with my generous donation they'll be relaxing for the last time."

"You're never gonna stop, are you?"

A moment passed while he mulled over her question.

"Not any time soon, no. It's too much fun."

"All right, I'll do the favor for you. But promise me one thing."

"Okay, okay. I won't send the towing company a basket of poisonous muffins or a bottle of spiked wine."

She waited. He sighed.

"Or anything that would sever their life spans considerably. I promise."

"Good, because we don't need to investigate an alleged murder on Christmas day, or you spend it in a holding cell."

Before Calleigh could say goodbye Ryan spoke up.

"I'll have the card say 'From Eric Delko' instead."

Abruptly he hung up. Calleigh shook her head. That guy – _her_ guy – never gives up.

--

Calleigh approached the garage where the towing company left Ryan's car. They must have misunderstood when the orders were to bring it to the crime lab; they thought it was a piece of evidence rather than an employee's vehicle. So they brought it to the garage where cars involved in their cases were examined.

As she neared the swinging double doors she heard muffled noises coming from the room. Maybe Ryan came down to check on his car himself and turned on the radio to see if the company workers messed up his reception or installed a hidden camera.

Still, she kept walking to make sure it really was Ryan in there. The noises began to sound like foreign music. She couldn't quite put her finger on the actual instrument.

A singing voice accompanied the sound. Paul McCartney? What was he doing with… Hold on. Are those… bagpipes?

The blonde pushed the doors. Her ears were not ready for the blasting notes coming from the Scottish instrument. She ran to the stereo and noticed a CD case beside it. A post-it was stuck on the plastic cover.

_TRACK ONE WILL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING._

Calleigh lowered the volume a couple decibels before following instructions on the note.

The soft, calm voice of Ryan Wolfe relaxed her. She was still baffled, but at least now she wasn't baffled _and_ going deaf.

_Hello there, lovely! I didn't get to thank you for doing this for me, so I'll do it on record. So thanks, Calleigh, for doing this for me._

She laughed along with his recorded laugh.

_Before I clarify things, I feel that I should let you know that today is the eleventh day. _

And for the third time in less than two weeks he cleared his throat and starting to sing.

_**On the eleventh day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Eleven pipers piping**_

_Okay, so at first I thought of gathering eleven pipers. Like, actual people who smoked with pipes. But then it wouldn't be very Christmassy for me to arrest them right after for smoking in a public – and government funded! – building. _

_And then I thought of getting eleven plumbers holding pipes. But then that sounded kind of stupid._

_So my incredible researching skills led me to bagpipes. Apparently this verse was supposed to be about bagpipers. Here are your eleven pipers, Calleigh. Eleven artists who have incorporated the phenomenally loud bagpipe into one of their songs. AC/DC, Dropkick Murphys, and Sting are among the set. And yes, that was Paul McCartney you were listening to. _

_The songs are actually pretty good. I never really appreciated the bagpipe, but I think after preparing for this day, it's a pretty sweet instrument. _

_So fill today with bagpipes galore, and if you still want to, we can find some sexy low-riding plumbers and have them hold toilet pipes for you. _

_Isn't giving both of us that image such a nice way to end my audio letter? I'm starting to hate the vividness of my own imagination._

_Yours, _

_Ryan_

_PS. The moment of truth comes the day after tomorrow. Oh, oops. Did I forget to mention that you're going to sing to me the whole song on Christmas day? So get in front of that mirror and practice, practice, practice!_

_

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_**ooh, do you think Calleigh will be able to sing it in two days? come back & check. **

**&&, before you leave, how about a review?  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**thankies for the reviews, once again! sorry for this being so late. my family had to be hosts for relatives that came for dinner. couldn't be on computer for the whole day. **

**here's the twelfth day, guys! (sorry for not being more interesting in this author's note. it's just that it's 4 AM right now.)  
**

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_December 24__th_

Ah. Christmas Eve. Perhaps the most suspense-ridden day of the whole year. Everyone sitting by the tree, hands forcefully clamped together to stop themselves from snatching their presents. Eyes restless, feet jittery. Just waiting, waiting for midnight.

Calleigh didn't have the patience to wait until the next day, so she brought her boxed present with her to work. She wanted to see his face right after he opened it. Partly because her gift was brilliant, and the other part because if he had the urge to give her a kiss, it'd work out best if she was there.

The others could wait until tomorrow, and since she'd spent all night wrapping his gift that she didn't get to the other presents, they had no choice anyway.

As she glimpsed through every glass wall in the lab to look for him she hoped her present would partially make up for all the time, money, and thought he'd spent on his. She never could get over how caring he was.

She found him in the layout room, with his elbows on the table looking over what was probably evidence. How could he think of murder on Christmas Eve? But as she walked around to see over his shoulder – his back was facing the door – she realized it wasn't a case he was staring at. He noticed her just then.

"Hey! Well… I guess the element of surprise is gone." She stared a gawked at him, unable to do anything.

"… on the plus side, I don't need to wrap them." He smiled, encouraging her to speak before he got worried.

Calleigh finally regained her composure. "This is my present, isn't it? For the twelfth and last day?"

Ryan nodded, then said, "Correctamundo. I didn't expect you to be here; you were supposed to be in your lab, playing with guns, or in the break room, anywhere but here."

She could only shrug. "I wanted to bring you your present early. It's a good thing I'm not as predictable as you made me believe I was."

"So how about you go first? Sorry; I didn't get to wrap them. I got sidetracked." He flashed her a picture perfect grin.

He stood aside to give her a closer look. There were two different presents – a painting and a book. "Wait. Let me guess. Twelve drummers drumming?"

"You got it. The painting's by Delilah Smith, and the novel is a mystery novel, by Diana Deverell. Sorry for the lack of creativity. This was around the time when my creativity juices dried out. So I just ended up Google-ing 'Twelve drummers drumming'.

"That's all right. This painting's gorgeous and I've been looking around for a new book to read. Thank you." She smiled, and he reciprocated.

"Oh. Today's the twelfth day, Cal. Do you want to sing it?"

Pretty sure she remembered the tune – having heard him sing it so many times – he listened intently as she sang to him for the first time.

_**On the twelfth day of Christmas**_

_**My true love gave to me**_

_**Twelve drummers drumming**_

Her singing voice was angelic. There was no other word for it. Her adorable Southern accent disappeared when she sang, replaced by strong vocals that did not need practice. Ryan loved it.

"Anybody ever tell you you've got an amazing voice? That was great!"

Calleigh blushed. "No, but that's only because I rarely sing to anyone. You should feel lucky, Wolfe. Open yours now."

She pushed the wrapped box across the table. He took it and shook it close to his ear, trying to listen and guess what it was.

"You'll never figure it out while it's wrapped. Trust me. Just open it! I'm excited to see your reaction."

Ryan complied, and ripped the Christmas wrapper off. He opened the box, and his face twisted into an expression Calleigh didn't think was possible. Suddenly she grew worried that he wouldn't think it was as brilliant as she thought it was.

"Calleigh… what _is _this?" He took it out of the box and held it up to get the full view. She could tell he felt stupid for unfolding it. He set it down just as quickly as he had held it up.

It was a heavy knitted sweater. With the poor mixture of colors, Ryan couldn't distinguish the main color of the sweater. In the middle was Santa Claus; actually, the only reason he knew it was the big guy was because it said HO! HO! HO! in the speech bubble. But he looked like a blob. His face was distorted – the eyes blended with the nose and he couldn't even find the mouth – and his red suit had random splashes of purple. Around Santa were gifts in deformed sizes. Encircling the gifts were what Ryan would assume to be Christmas trees (each tree was a different color). Basically, it was a swirl of clashing colors and disfigured pictures.

"I remember you telling us once that you because you were an only child, and your extended family was fairly small, that you never got one of those grandmothers or aunts who tried knitting as a hobby and made you a horrendous sweater. Now you can suffer along with us with your very own ugly sweater."

"But… why would you pick these colors? They hurt my eyes, and I'm not even looking at it anymore."

She gasped playfully. "You think _I_ made this for you? Do you think I'm sucky at knitting?"

"No, of course not. It's just… Can I be honest with you?"

"Certainly. What good's any relationship without honesty?"

"Calleigh… this is _the_ ugliest sweater I've ever seen in my life. It's…it's hideous! How did you manage to find this?"

She shook her shoulders. "Skills."

"Finding this is not considered a skill."

"Oh, thanks. You seem to have used up all your creativity but you don't have a problem making fun of me."

"Yes, but this uses a different part of my brain. Creativity is different from wit. Anybody can be creative. Wit has to be acquired."

"Still waiting for that wit to come, huh? You can never trust snail mail."

He narrowed his eyes as she smirked. "Cute. That's real cute."

"So what do you think?"

"Oddly enough, as repulsive as it is, I don't hate it."

"Are you going to wear it?"

"Don't push it."

Calleigh laughed. As he walked over to give her a kiss she stopped him. "Wait. There's another gift in there."

Ryan looked through the tissue paper in the box and revealed a silver Rolex. He held it delicately and admired it in the light.

"I noticed that watch tan on your right wrist one day. And when I saw it again the next day I knew you couldn't have just forgotten your watch two days in a row. So, with my exceptional skills, I deduced that your watch was probably broken. Look on the back. It's inscribed."

He obeyed her and flipped the watch. Silently he read the engraved message and gave a short chuckle. "_Now you can spend all your time with me. Love, Calleigh._ Seriously, Cal? That sounds like something I would say."

"Great minds think alike."

"Got that right. You know you didn't need to get me anything."

"And you didn't have to either. You could have taught me the song without getting me all those gifts. I wanted to get them for you. Especially the sweater."

"Well, thank you, Cal. You're really brave, walking to the cashier with this thing. Takes some stones."

"Or maybe I just really like the person I planned on giving it to."

This time, when he got closer, she didn't stop him. He kissed her softly, and when their lips separated he kept his forehead on hers. Both their eyes were closed.

"By the way, not to ruin the moment or anything," Calleigh whispered, "but I just felt the need to tell you that the watch was just a backup present."

"Oh, so if anybody asks, I can tell them you got me this slick watch instead of the disgusting sweater, because you don't want anybody to question your fashion sense. I get it."

"Smart cookie."

Natalia walked in, completely oblivious to Calleigh and Ryan having a cute little moment. She only noticed what she was interrupting when she looked up from her file. At that point they had already separated from their hold.

"Oh, sorry guys. I'll talk to you later, Ryan. _Whoa._" The sweater, sprawled on the table, caught her eye.

With her pen she pointed to it. "That yours, Ryan? Wow. That is one _ugly_ sweater. Who'd you get it from?" She shifted her gaze from the sweater, to Ryan, and finally to Calleigh.

Ryan smirked. "You're looking at her."

He felt the corner of a book jab him in the chest.

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**the painting & book are real things, btw. check em out if you'd like.**

**leave reviews, please! epilogue will be coming shortly. :]  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**hooray! finally, the last chapter, done before the year ends. it's been intense writing two a day; though i had so much fun thinking of ideas. **

**hope you guys enjoyed reading this & that you still have some Christmas left in you to read this a week _after_ the holiday. **

**have a happy happy new year, everyone!  
**

_

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December 25__th_

The team had gathered in the break room on Christmas morning. Since none of them – except Alexx, who was home with her family – had any relatives to visit (Eric's family went to Russia; he couldn't go because a vacation for the CSI team was basically not being called for a murder while on-call), they all agreed to come to their second home celebrate it together. Just because the government wouldn't let them leave their jurisdiction – technically they were working that day – didn't mean they were restricted from enjoying Christmas with a family, even if they weren't blood-related.

Horatio, Eric, Natalia, Frank, Maxine, and Dan opened their presents while sipping hot chocolate and munching on the DNA tech's gingerbread cookies. Every few minutes there would be an excited gasp after the gift was opened or a squeal from both the ladies (Dan shrieked once, but everyone thought it was someone else). Hugs would be exchanged almost twice as much as gifts were.

When the gift-opening frenzy had settled down they all sat around the glass table and casually made small talk. Then Eric had asked what everyone got from Ryan, since he wasn't there. He also wanted to tell everyone how lame his present was for Calleigh.

"He got a second pair of my current sunglasses made for me, and two sunglass cases. I must have told him my other pairs were getting scratched."

"A silver necklace with an 'M' dangling and a silver bracelet with my name engraved since he knew how I was allergic to fake jewelry."

"This purse from my favorite downtown boutique and a set of my favorite _Chicken Soup for the Soul _books inside. I think it probably slipped out during one of our cases together."

"The thinnest external hard drive out there, and all the _Star Wars_ movies. I'd pretty much hinted about the movies, but I don't know how he knew about the hard drive I've been wanting all year."

"A 100 dollar gift certificate to the best restaurant that serves my all-time favorite Texas ribs and barbecue, and season tickets to all the Florida Gators' home games. Guy seems to know all of us pretty darn well."

"I got running gear and a scuba set in the brand that I always buy from; I don't remember telling him that in my old set the tank leaks. Even if I did, I didn't think he was listening to me."

There was a moment of silence as everyone thought over Ryan's presents to everyone. The Cuban spoke up. "So it looks like he got everyone some decent gifts."

"More than decent, Eric. He gave us all two different types of presents. And none of these were cheap stuff, either," Natalia argued.

"Yeah, and he bought exactly what we wanted or needed."

"You're right, Cooper. My bad. He's more thoughtful than I thought he was. I haven't been giving him much credit because of what he got Calleigh."

"Why? It wasn't that bad," Frank questioned Eric.

"Are you kidding? You don't think a partridge is that bad? It was stuffed bird. He got her a stuffed bird." Eric stood up to refill his mug with more hot chocolate.

He watched the others at the table. One by one their eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was Eric talking about?

"No… Ryan bought Calleigh three recipe books." Natalia was first to interject.

"Actually, Miss Boa Vista, I believe it was four walkie-talkies. I would know; I lent him the spare keys to unlock Calleigh's Hummer." Horatio could vividly recall tricking his ballistics expert over the phone.

"It was a basket of chocolate the size of goose eggs. She gave me one, so I would know." Frank had taken one of the caramel-filled eggs. It made for a great midnight snack.

"You guys are all wrong. It was a warm lemon-scented bath with seven rubber duckies painted white." Maxine had never been more bemused in her life, but she could still feel her back aching from dragging the tub in the women's shower room.

"No, it was that video recording of us dancing. That was his real present. He told me because he needed my help editing his intro clip with the footage of our dance." Dan covered his mouth with his hand; clearly he wasn't supposed to say that.

"… wait, what? That wasn't a re-enactment of their case?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything." The A/V tech laughed nervously at the Cuban's question.

"You know what? Forget that. The bigger problem here is, what did Wolfe _really_ get Calleigh?"

As if Eric had summoned the blonde, they saw her walking down the hallway, humming to herself. She looked much happier than usual. Calleigh entered the break room and when she saw them, she laughed.

"Y'all having a nice time gossiping about me and Ryan?"

"How did you…?" Eric took the lead, assigning himself the voice of the group.

She filled a mug with refrigerated water. "Well, all of you staring at me kind of gave it away. That, and Ryan and I are the only ones who aren't here, so it must have been about us."

"We just have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"What did Wolfe get you for Christmas?"

Calleigh froze. Uh oh. What was she supposed to say now? She couldn't tell them he got her enough presents to satisfy every giftless child in the world. And she couldn't just lie and tell them one present, because every person in the room knew of a different gift than everyone else.

"Um. Well, you see… that's a bit complicated." She tried to stall as long as she could. Every person reiterated what they thought he had given her. She was in deep trouble now.

Ryan came walking; he was seen clearly through the glass walls. He was making his way to the break room. Calleigh tried to capture his attention and inform him not to enter, but he thought she was trying to wink at him.

He smiled a winked at her, then opened the door to the break room. She hung her head; all hope was lost. They were busted now.

"Mr. Wolfe. Help us clarify some stuff, please."

He turned to the redhead, nodding. "Sure thing, H."

"We're all just a little bit confused as to what you gave to Calleigh for Christmas. Everyone seems to have a different take on your present."

Ryan sighed. He made eye contact with Calleigh, who could offer him no help.

"Guess this is the part where I tell you the truth, huh?"

"The truth would be nice, yes."

"I got her all of the stuff you think she got. And probably more."

Countless pairs of eyes widened and mouths matched the circular shape of their eyes. Nobody moved or said anything for several minutes.

Calleigh took this as her cue. "See, I told Ryan that I could never remember the lyrics to the song 12 Days of Christmas. So he helped me out a little, and went above and beyond with the presents."

Eric was the first of the group to find his voice. "So you got her something for every day, for twelve days. And for each day, the present had something to do with the verse."

"Yup."

"One more question. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do it? You could have asked me; I don't remember the lyrics!"

"Tough luck, Delko, that nobody asked you. I guess you'll just have to stick with the waterproof running gear and new scuba set that I got you. And I did it because I love her… and you guys? Not so much."

He earned a glare from his boss. "Except maybe for H. I hope you know I love you, H. Oh, and Alexx, who's not here. And Natalia, of course. Frank, you know my true feelings for you. And Maxine, who could forget Maxine? And, on occasion, even you, Cooper. So I guess that just leaves you, Delko."

The others were still speechless. Ryan decided now was better to drop the surprise.

"All right. How does everyone feel about a brunch at that restaurant downtown we've all been dying to get into? I finally got us some reservations. My treat."

"You mean that four-star fancy restaurant that's booked for the next five months? How'd you manage to get us in there?" Natalia's eyes twinkled in her excitement.

"Well, for one thing, they're Jewish. For another, when I told the owner he was going to get a generous tip if he let ten people from the Crime Lab eat at his place on Christmas morning, he told me his restaurant was open to us whenever we feel like eating there. And it's going to be empty, so we don't have to worry about being considerate to other people."

They still sat there, unable to move or speak. Ryan may have just given them the greatest Christmas presents they have ever received their whole lives. The brunch at the restaurant almost makes up for the twelve days of gifts they didn't get.

Ryan told them to stand up and get ready to pack up their things and leave, because the reservation was set in the next hour and it took forty-five minutes to get downtown. Eric was the last to leave, with the exception of Ryan.

"You know, Wolfe. Everyone's pretty pleased with what you got 'em. You're a great listener, buddy. I can't believe you were on the dot with everybody's presents."

Ryan shrugged. "One of the many perks of OCD."

"Haha. Thanks, man, for the gift." Eric patted Ryan on the shoulder. A couple seconds passed and they decided to embrace each other in a manly hug.

"Oh, and just a heads up. I don't know the Christmas alphabet song, by the way."

"Right, that song. How does that go again?"

"You know, it's like, C is for the candy cane upon the Christmas tree. H is for the happiness with all the family. R is for the reindeer… you know, that one."

"Oh, you mean the song that you pretended not to know just so you could mooch off presents from me? The song that you just sang?"

"Damn. I gotta hand that one to you, that was good, Wolfe."

They chuckled in unison.

"Merry Christmas, man."

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**thank you in advance for reviews you might leave, & thanks a bunch now for already giving me some. it's nice to know there are people who like how i write. :]  
**

**if i've moved you to the dark CaRWash side of the CSI:Miami world, welcome! i've got more Calleigh/Ryan stories in my profile. check 'em out, leave reviews there too, & recommend 'em to others. but only if you want to. **


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